


Late Night

by kyokyou



Category: Big Bang (Band), K-pop
Genre: Angst, GTOP, K-Pop - Freeform, M/M, MADE, One Shot, Romance, bae bae, bigbang, christmas exchange fic, idk - Freeform, if you, kpop, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:01:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7733164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyokyou/pseuds/kyokyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aftermath of a breakup in the span of a year and the events that follow. Jiyong still has Seunghyun stained on every inch of him.</p><p>Based on - <i>Prompt: Something about fading away and forgetting what you used to love, and what you used to have.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Night

**Author's Note:**

> written for a xmas exchange fic last year. i created an aesthetic for this fic, click [here](http://41.media.tumblr.com/3d37e68850ea0f7a537a9e84313cb375/tumblr_nzrcx9gY091ub6179o1_r1_500.jpg). and also a [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/kyokyou/playlist/03I2emTq5xS5puP8UMprQP). not beta'd, so forgive any typo errors or (unforgivable actually) grammar errors. i tend to write stuff at the wee hours of night.
> 
> thanks for reading <3

♕

**JAN.**

It’d be a lie to say Jiyong doesn’t miss him. It’s only been a couple of months since they broke up (messily). He misses him terribly; he misses him every fucking day. He thinks of him when he brews his tea (because Seunghyun used to), when he picks out an outfit to stumble across the different sets of clothing Seunghyun has bought for him. He thinks of him when he showers, because it reminded him when Seunghyun always shove the shower head right in his face, and then he’ll get water up his nose and he’ll be threatening to kill Seunghyun, and a string of laughter accompanied shortly after.

Jiyong stares blankly at the reflection staring back at him. He almost doesn’t recognize it because his eyes are glassy, his cheeks are sunken and his lips chapped (from all the drinking and chain smoking—god bless his lungs and liver).

The pain is unbearable, he can _feel_ his heart wrenching, and the pain enveloping to his fingertips and toes. It consumes him. Jiyong goes to bed every night unable to sleep until hours later, and the memories of a feral gaze, strong set of jaw, nose, perfectly sculpted lips, and low gravelly voice that haunts him till he drifts to slumber.

 And he wakes up with Seunghyun’s face first thing on his mind. He begins to feel himself slip.

 

**FEB.**

Jiyong cracks open an eye, only to shut it immediately due to the blinding sunlight that peeked through the curtains. He reckons this is a taste of what death feels like? His body aches, back sore and his throat feels like sandpaper. He reaches for the bottled water next to his bed and gulps it down, feeling the sting of the chilliness burning his insides. Jiyong licks his lips, and then slumps back down on his bed. His left hand fiddles on the bedside table, and creates a mess; he drops his clock and curses, but doesn’t stop to look. Once he finds the item he’s been looking for, he withdraws his hand to retrieve a cigarette, and lights it. Jiyong wants to just stay at home and rot, but he’s down to his last few cigarettes, and he’s got rent to pay for the month.

He wants to call Seunghyun, but refrains from doing so. The last time he did (while drunk), Seunghyun told him to never call him again. Fine. He won’t. But then again, where’s all this pent-up rage going to go? Will it disappear on its own?

 Youngbae’s been bugging him all day and night to download the dating app and _go the fuck out once more, stop cooping yourself in that blackhole._ And usually Jiyong would plaster fake smiles to get through the day, so his friends wouldn’t worry, or just another way to dismiss a set of bombarding questions he doesn’t want to answer. But he’s façade’s broken, his shield temporarily under heavy maintenance.

Just as he is down to his final puff on the stick, his phone rings and Jiyong flinches. He deliberates on letting it go unanswered or picking it up and eventually went with the latter. “Hello?” His voice is hoarse, and has to clear his throat thrice. He can’t see Dara, but he can hear the worry and _sympathy_ laced in her voice. “I’ll treat you to a good meal. Just get the fuck out of the damn house. Please.” Her voice is hard, despite her pleas, and she grows impatient when Jiyong just mumbles his way through.

“Don’t make me go there and burst open the door because I _will_.”

“Fine.” Jiyong replies, and finally drags himself out of bed. His apartment is in a terrible—but beautiful, in his eyes—disarray; unwashed laundry sprawled all over the floor, beer cans and bottles left unattended, empty cigarettes boxes piled, scrawlings on notepads scrunched up and tossed all over.

Jiyong bites his lips and blinks. He ought to clear this mess. His mother would have long hollered in his ears and whacked him with anything she could grab her hands on.

An alert tone buzzes and Jiyong turns back to grab his phone he tossed on the bed.

A message from Instagram and Jiyong quirks a brow upwards. A cute girl with dyed ash hair messaged him and Jiyong almost asks her if Youngbae set her up to this. Instead, he pushes and pulls just how a girl would like and the conversation goes on.

And on (exchange of favourite songs, tv shows, colours, ecetera).

And on (random conversations that alternates from intellectual to utter nonsense).

They eventually meet up, and she is a lovely girl, with pretty smiles and bright eyes, knows her charms and tries a few on Jiyong. If he isn’t so broken inside, and a chaotic mess, his heart would’ve fluttered. He wears his bisexuality proudly on his sleeve, but the problem lies with the fact that his heart has already been stolen, dragged along by another—all these seem really pointless. Jiyong smiles and laughs appropriately but it’s insincere. He wonders why he even bothers. She’s obviously rather smitten and drones on about snapping pictures so Jiyong thinks why not? They snapped a couple and he decides to post up one (the best he looks in) to spite Seunghyun. To show him he’s better off without him, _just you wait and see_.

Then she drags him off for dinner and she goes on about her life story, where Jiyong tunes out and mind wanders elsewhere, wishing that her silvery voice was gravelly with a low rumble to it and a voice that makes Jiyong want to claw him from his chair and pin it to the damn wall.

He turns back to her, smiles plastered on his face but his eyes are jaded. She doesn’t notice it, not for a bit, and he ends the night early with an excuse she buys such as work.

He wishes his phone would blow up and Seunghyun would demand to see him, _baby we could work things out I promise! You and I against the world remember?_ But it doesn’t, and he falls asleep to the grating tone of Seunghyun saying _I’d regret, but what else can I do?_

 

**MAR.**

Day 169—  
  
_Why do I still ache on you?_

 

Day 171—  
  
_They all told me to forget you,_  
Said it like it was something  
You could do like in a math equation  
But it’s more of a literature question,  
There’s no definite solution.

 

Day 181—

_Maybe I felt it from the start, that it wouldn’t end anywhere. Emptiness. Forget it._

Day 190—

_when the physicality has turned into dust and there’s nothing left but yourself and the memories you cling unto, learn to let go_

Day 200—

_I miss him. I miss him so much. I loved him, I loved him the hardest.  
And yet I broke, I broke completely apart. He broke my heart._

 

**APRIL.**

“First thing I’ll do is pay you back.” Jiyong is firm, but a little embarrassed. He hears Youngbae laughing on the other line, “Take your time, it’s not like you’re gonna run away, gosh.” And Jiyong repeats his gratitude, when they finally hang up, Jiyong plops back to his bed and buries the pillow in his face. All he’s been doing is wallow in self misery he’s neglected all other responsibilities, like work and rent. If it isn’t for Youngbae he’d be living on the streets and reality wouldn’t even sink in by then.

Being a freelancer definitely has its perks and quirks, and right now it’s not looking very good for Jiyong. He checks his inbox, something he hasn’t quite done for the past few weeks, and realized he missed many good offers. He fishes for his phone and calls up one of his contacts. The line connects after three rings. “Jiyong? My my my, am I surprised the almighty is calling me himself.” A cheery voice booms over at the other end. The blonde can’t help but smile, his energy is contagious, even thousands of miles apart.

“Hyung, remember the favour you said you owed me? The one I never held against you but you declared otherwise—”

“Yes, I remember.” Jaejoong drawls.

“Well, I’m low on cash and I need a large-scaled project, is there any way you could hook me up with something good?” Jiyong makes himself smile throughout the question.

Jaejoong laughs, a merry ring of laughter echoes. “Ask you and you shall receive. Definitely. In fact, I’ve got a few. The (magazine) company needs a hand with certain projects and we’re still looking for a graphics designer slot. It’s a bit too advanced for the interns to handle. I’ll email you the specifications?”

This time, Jiyong does smile genuinely. And radiantly, in fact.

“Great, thanks so much, I owe you one for sure!” Jiyong experiences mirth since a long time.

He can _hear_ Jaejoong waving his hands and sloshing him away, “At this rate we would have a never-ending list of favours for each other _. I_ owed you, remember? Ok I’ll send them over in a jiffy, check your email and let me know your decision by tomorrow! Feel free to call me again if you’ve got any questions alright?” Jaejoong says.

“Thank you hyung, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.”

Jiyong disconnects the line and feels weight off his shoulders and suddenly much freer than expected. He looks at the mess he’s still living in and gets up from his desk and decides to do some spring cleaning. After a couple of hours of rearranging and reconstruction, Jiyong heads for a quick shower and comes out draped in his towel still dripping wet, eager to check on the email. He spends about half an hour in his boxers, tousled of a mop blonde hair, water still descending down, albeit slowly, from gold locks. Jiyong carefully reads through each project and in between sends a few texts to Jaejoong enquiring about the commitment period and any other things he should take note of. He eventually decides on a three-month re-branding project. In addition, he offers to do a mobile app for the product which increases his wage.

He promptly receives another email back from Jaejoong, where he asks for Jiyong’s availability to discuss and sign the contract.

Next Monday, 10AM would be fine.

So next Monday 10AM it is. The black semi PU leathered diary that Jiyong stacks along with other journals full of sketches and scrawlings, slowly becomes a remnant of Seunghyun tugged at the back of his mind.

 

**MAY.**

Jiyong thinks love is a funny thing: its crazy ability to lift someone in high spirits or wreck them apart. Jiyong doesn’t exactly know where he belongs right now, since he’s _very_ busy with his new project, his mind hardly ever wanders to unbidden territories.  So it baffles him sometimes, when he’s faced with two very opposing situations: Chaerin just broken up and tending to a wounded heart and Youngbae finally in a proper damn relationship and he’s over the moon.

Jiyong offers to treat Chaerin for lunch—an all-you-can-eat BBQ Buffet. Food makes anyone happy. If Jiyong could, he’d definitely marry food. When he’s on the way to the restaurant however, he regrets asking her out so eagerly. She was crying over the phone the night before, words all slurred and barely audible and Jiyong had been awkward enough. If she was to cry infront of him, Jiyong would really be at wits end.

He is in for a shock when he arrives at the restaurant to find Chaerin (from outside of the clear floor-to-ceiling windows) already seated, dressed up to the nines and no puffy eyes when she removes her sunglasses.

“Are you going somewhere after this?” Jiyong half-laughs as he pulls the chair out.

Chaerin shrugs, “Dunno yet. Better than being cooped up. I feel absolutely like crap when I stay indoors. I don’t want to keep thinking about him.”

Something about what the petite blonde says is like a stab right through the heart. Jiyong grins a little longer than usual. “That’s good to hear.” And they both went on piling up food on their plates.

The same night Jiyong makes plans with Youngbae for dinner, though slightly somewhat impromptu and asks Chaerin to join along. She says _okay, but I want to do some shopping first. Do you want to come with or shall I meet you boys there?_ Jiyong cracks a laugh and shrugs, “Why not, you could always jack up your taste level.” Which warrants a deadpan expression from Chaerin, and Jiyong guffaws.

♕  
 

He didn’t expect Youngbae to bring his girlfriend along, so when he sees the two of them, her hand hooked dearly on his arm Jiyong swallows. Chaerin smiles and introduces herself. Jiyong does likewise. Soon, Seungho and Soojoo join in and Jiyong is glad to see more familiar faces. The restaurant has a nice ambience to it, dimly litted, pretty decorations of flowers and vines all over the tables and counter tops, and the icing on the cake is the smell of pizza that blankets the whole place. The best part though, is that they sell soju.

Jiyong stares at the windows as Youngbae and Hyorin answers Soojoo’s endless questions and shares their love story. He bores holes on the window and Chaerin nudges his elbows. She gives him a look. Jiyong almost fires up because _are you patronizing me?_ You’re _the one who just got out of a relationship_ not _me, and I don’t need anyone to validate my damn worth_. He swallows back the profanity that rests dangerously at the tip of his tongue and excuses himself for a quick smoke. Soojoo notices and tails behind him.

Jiyong pushes the door and the cool, crisp breeze greets him as he inhales deeply. He walks straight till he reaches the kerb and lights his cigarette. “Spare me one?” He hears Soojoo says.

He hands her a cigarette and she pops the filter then proceeds to light it. They smoke in silence. “You look better.” She starts. Soojoo is treading on dangerous waters and she knows it. She knows his temper. “I’ve been _better_.” Jiyong replies.

What catches him off is what he doesn’t say— _with Seunghyun_. He thought he’s getting over him, making progress. Sometimes he writes in the diary, sometimes he forgets. Well, perhaps not. “I saw Jae the other day, he told me you’ve got some big fish in your hands right now.” Soojoo smiles. But they’re both facing heavenwards so Jiyong doesn’t see it. The blonde gazes intently at the moon.

Soojoo continues, “I’m glad you’re finding yourself again. Somehow.” She shrugs and laughs. But Jiyong doesn’t like the hint of compassion that underlies in her tone. He doesn’t need anyone’s pity, or sympathy, or goddamn compassion. He just needs Seunghyun—and the thought disappears as quickly as it came. Jiyong’s gaze drops to his burning cigarette. The ashes start to collect as the stick burns away.

“I’m still finding myself,” Jiyong starts, voice low. He takes a long drag, then exhales out, turning to face Soojoo. “I’ve grown colder.” He finishes, then stubs the cigarette with his foot and heads back to the Italian restaurant. Soojoo finishes her cigarette in the cold alone, folding her arms and pulling her shawl tight, the impassive gaze Jiyong had on earlier etches in her mind.

 

**JUNE.**

The days drift by like the blink of an eye. He’s constantly on his laptop and alternates between Photoshop and InDesign, his phone constantly ringing. He’s either at home rushing through deadlines or out and about talking deals and presenting proposals. But Jiyong enjoys it; he enjoys his work a lot. He likes being busy, keeps his mind off things, and the thought of Seunghyun rarely pops into his mind. Sometimes he’ll think about their friendship and he misses what they used to have.

 

“Don’t you think we’re abit old for this?” Jiyong laughed when he saw the fire blazed in Seunghyun eyes the minute his gaze fixated on the playground a bit further up from where they stood. “Race you.” Seunghyun had a mischievous grin on and saw the look on Jiyong’s face change. He knew that blonde loved challenges.

“Oh _please,_ so what does the winner get?” Jiyong tightened his shoelaces and didn’t see when Seunghyun shrugged.

“The winner gets to decide _whatever_ …bye.” And didn’t bother waiting for Jiyong to finish and ran towards the playground.

“Fucker!” Seunghyun could hear Jiyong’s voice cutting through the fresh breeze of the night and all he could respond back was a rumble of laughter. His khaki coat swished up and down started to droop from his shoulders and Jiyong tried catching up on the brunette. He closed in just a millisecond late and Seunghyun huffed proudly, fists in the air repeating _I won! I won!_ Jiyong rolled his eyes but a grin began forming on his face as he pressed both hands on Seunghyun’s shoulders and jumped, while Seunghyun, upon instincts, grabbed his legs that wrapped around the older’s sides. Jiyong snaked his arms around Seunghyun’s neck and started rocking back and forth, laughing, “You cheated you ass.”

Seunghyun started cracking up as Jiyong began tickling him, “You’re only making yourself in danger Kwon Jiyong, I’m gonna drop you!”

So he stopped, and just hung his arms loosely around the brunette’s then held him closer. Seunghyun’s grip on Jiyong’s tightened as well. They don’t see the sun actually setting but the skies are bleeding a pretty shade of orange. The birds chirped occasionally and crickets sung. They both basked in the moment of silence and Jiyong buried his head in the crook of Seunghyun’s neck. He breathed in hard, and harder, trying to let time stay still for as long as possible, and imprinting this in his sea of memories. He smelt cologne, detergent and something sweet (Seunghyun) and pressed his lips against his skin. Seunghyun felt his heart skipped a beat.

“I love you.” Jiyong’s voice is slightly muffled but still audible.

Seunghyun smiled, wide, his eyes twinkling and dimples imprinted hard.

“I love you too.” He said back softly.

 

**JULY.**  
 

[FROM ✉ youngbae ]  
_10:12_  
↳ _yah, why don’t you update me stuff anymore??_  
↳ _i know i’m like seeing hyorin but still???_  
↳ _tsssk, and i had to find out from seungri of all people._  
↳ _SEUNGRI_  
↳ _YAH R U THERE BITCH_  
↳ _STOP ACTIN BZ_

[FROM ✉ youngbae ]  
12:01  
↳ _jiyongggg_  
↳ ╥﹏╥ _huhu_

 

 

[TO ✉ youngbae ]  
12:44  
  _→_ _yes I’m seeing someone._  
  _→_ _sorry you had to find out from Ri (•̀ᴗ•́)_  
  _→I’ll meet you soon, promise, my proj deadline is next week, so I’m swarmed rn OTL_

 

♕

 

**_10 days later_**  
[FROM ✉ kiko ]  
12:55  
↳ _R u finally done with ur project_  
↳ _can I see ur handsome face tonight for dinner_  
↳ _or do I have to wait another week ( ︶︿︶)_

[TO ✉ kiko ]  
14:23  
  _→_ _yessSSSSss I m finally done beb_  
  _→_ _finalllllllyyyyy_  
  _→_ _hahahaa. I’ll let you pick the restaurant?_  
  _→my treat;)_

[FROM ✉ kiko ]  
14:24  
↳ yay! (♥ω♥*)  
↳ what time do you want to meet?  
↳ does Japanese sound good? Hehe

[TO ✉ kiko ]  
17:01  
  _→yeah sounds good. Is 8 ok? If it’s too late we can do dinner another day._

[FROM ✉ kiko ]  
17:01  
↳ okie dokes, see you ♥ 

 

♕

 

Jiyong types with a straight face then tosses his phone aside and stretches his arms and legs, and screeches after a yawn. Happy that the project is a success (even though he encountered some minor differences here and there with the client) and his bank finally piled up with more greens. He lets out a sigh of finality and smiles to himself. He switches off his laptop then shuts it close then fidgets in his chair. He feels much more in control, and begins to see a light at the end of this dark tunnel he’s been paving alone with blistered feet, wounded arms and a splayed wide open chest.

He catches the semi PU leather at the corner of his eyes; it sits there comfortably snuggled with the rest of his sketchbooks and journals. Jiyong briefly considers writing an entry, since he hasn’t written one in _months_ , then decides against because he just, doesn’t quite feel like it anymore. A small smile etches on his lips.

His phone rings and Jiyong turns and grab his phone. His client (Lee) calls, and asks him to join for a celebratory dinner. _Jaejoong will be there too!_ He quickly adds, and he sounds jolly. Jiyong deliberates in the split second and then replies back with an O.K. They hang up and shortly after, he receives a text with the location and rises to his feet. So Jiyong sends an apologetic text to Kiko saying he can’t make it after all and _promises_ dinner the next night with a heart emoji. He grabs his leather jacket, wallet, car keys and cigarettes (lighter tucked inside). She responds back to his text and Jiyong doesn’t bother reading.

 

**AUGUST.**

 

Jiyong is out again, at some bar, with Dara and Chaerin and the sun hasn’t even set. They are the only patrons including another guy sitting right at the far corner of the bar, all the way inside. “This party is way too early,” Jiyong comments. They are seated in a square table with Jiyong opposite Chaerin and Dara smacked in the middle. She juts her elbows hard in his arm. “Oof,” Jiyong loses his balance a little but quickly grabs onto the arm of the high chair. Dara throws him a look. Jiyong rolls his eyes inwardly.

They are silent, and the electro pop beats in the background contradicts the atmosphere between them. Jiyong fumbles with his phone and types furiously and sends a text to Soojoo. She responds almost immediately with a _stuck in traffic, but I’m with Seungho and Soohyuk. Teddy’s not feeling well so he’s not coming. Youngbae is with Ri, watching that white-collar movie._ Jiyong rolls his eyes for real. He shoves the phone back in his pocket, and looks up at Chaerin, who is sipping her iced water. Her platinum blonde tresses shine under the light, but her face is dark and eyes, sad.

“I told you he’s not worth it. This kind of on-and-off relationship is nothing but poisonous. I thought you of all people should know that.” Jiyong shoots. Dara bites her lips and Chaerin says nothing. “Since we are already fucking here, let’s drink something else besides water.” Jiyong rises to his feet and orders a tower of beer from the lady with a mismatched sense of fashion.

He walks to the counter to check on the food menu and reckons everyone should be hungry by the time they’re here. So he skims through and plans to order large quantities of small bites. While he waits for the lady to be ready to take his order, he browses through Instagram. He double taps on photos that are illustrations, computer and drawn, tattoo posts and some selfies, and can’t help but rolls his eyes whenever he reaches a dedication post on how many measly months a couple has been together. He cringes at their words of affection that are _paragraphs_ and snorts, murmuring under his breath “Yeah ya’ll gonna break up.”

It’s not like he’s envious or spiteful, but he’s just—in his opinions, “stating the facts”. Nothing lasts forever; everything comes to a damn end. Happy memories are easily forgotten and sad memories haunt you like a wine-stain on a damn shirt. He briefly forgets he’s currently dating someone.

He's not sure if he has become less empathetic or that he's grown apathetic.

 

♕

 

Kiko has her wine glass raised slightly and she clinks at his that stands on the table. Jiyong adjusts his shirt a little and laughs, “I just came back from the toilet, perhaps you’d want to wait for me to settle down first before we cheers on something?”

Kiko smiles, a soft smile splays across her pretty face and her eyes sparkles. “I’m just really happy.” She cocks her head to the side, resting on her clasped hands. Jiyong returns a lop-sided grin. “Why?”

“I’m spending my day with the person I _love_ , and it’s your birthday, isn’t that obvious.” Kiko scrunches her nose and squeezes Jiyong’s nose playfully. Jiyong shifts. “Well technically, my birthday is tomorrow…and someone has to fly off,” Jiyong clicks his tongue at the end.

“I know I know,” she frowns.

“Sucks right, maybe I should quit my job. Then I’ll move in with you. You can feed me food, I’ll be happy with that.” Kiko grins, and arches a brow up. Jiyong laughs, because he doesn’t know what to say. He’s got nothing to say, really.

 

  
♕

 

Due to the rainy weather, they couldn’t rollerblade at the stall ‘couples spot’ as planned and decided to catch a movie instead. Seems mundane, but Kiko is thoroughly enjoying herself.

One third through the movie (00:24), Jiyong suddenly remembers about his phone and double checks if it’s on silent mode (it is) and almost rolls off the chair when he sees a text message from Seunghyun, and the timestamp reads 00:00. He adjusts the brightness to none and opens the text.

[FROM ✉ Hyun]  
00:00  
↳ _Happy Birthday Ji. I hope you have a great day ahead._

Jiyong stuffs his phone back and tries to focus on the scene that plays out. He doesn’t know what to feel, so why does it feel like his heart is at his throat? Maybe because Jiyong didn’t bother wishing Seunghyun’s birthday at all last year and feels guilt eating him, or maybe repressed anger gnawing him away, because _what the hell, you don’t bother reaching out and then suddenly wishes me exactly at twelve on my birthday?_ Then again the timing could be coincidental, and Jiyong snaps himself out of it.

The movie ends and they exit the cinema. Kiko walks ahead of him, talking about the movie as she munches on the popcorn.

She looks lovely, wearing a strapless A-line floral dress, which hugs nicely on her waist and then puffs out, draping downwards and swivels every time she moves. Her smile is gorgeous too. And she’s beaming with happiness. Jiyong forces himself to laugh every now and then because he can’t seem to say the words, “You’re beautiful,” without it rolling off his tongue weird. She’s going to take it the way he doesn’t want her to. She is beautiful, but Jiyong knows he’s not the one who should reaffirm her that.

Seunghyun’s text robs Jiyong away from Kiko for the remaining night.

 

**SEPTEMBER.**  
 

“You’re a heartbreaker man,” Soonho continues. Jiyong walks in a room to change.

“I never really liked her, I thought I could grow to. But well. Better to break things off first before she sinks in way further.” Jiyong says.

“You’re just afraid to love again.”

“Maybe.” Jiyong murmurs to himself.

He spends the next thirty minutes choosing an outfit.

“Dude, this is just an engagement party _not_ the actual wedding. Or have you lost yourself in your wardrobe? Do I need to come Narnia to fetch you?” Jiyong hears Soonho’s voice coming from the living room and he adjusts his hat. Jiyong laughs. “Coming out impatient bitch,” Jiyong shouts back.

“Only someone like you will have the room constructed into a walk-in wardrobe and fit your bed in the (supposed) study room…” Soonho says for no one to hear, and trails off. Another five minutes passed and he raises his voice again. “We are going to be late Ji!”

“ _Coming!”_

Soonho shakes his head and blows his fringe out of his eyes. He plays with his phone and checks snapchat, browsing on Soojoo’s account. It’s still early but everyone’s donned in dashing clothes and pretty outfits. The rented bungalow is in full white, and there are candles on every stand at the courtyard, with splashes of pink and purple decorated all over the walls and the interior. The next face that enters the frame however, Soonho momentarily freezes, and the video ends.

 

♕  
 

Jiyong isn’t least bit surprised when Soonho tells him as he drives, that Seunghyun is there. Hwaneun—the-groom-to-be—is a mutual friend, and he can invite whoever he wants. He isn’t surprised when they arrive and their mutual friends exchange glances with each other when they think Jiyong doesn’t catch it. He isn’t surprise when some of them try to keep them apart deliberately, so they’re never in the same room. He isn’t surprised when he catches Seunghyun, clad in a grey ribbed turtleneck, a brown overcoat with black jeans and a pair of snakeskin loafers, with a glass of white wine in his hands and his eyes glimmering. He’s laughing in between conversations as he sips on his wine.

Jiyong wishes he was surprised when he feels the tug at his heart, but he isn’t.

He is a little surprised that they both wore similarly. Jiyong’s also in a turtleneck, but he’s got a dash of punk attitude in him and that reflects in his clothes. The neck, hem and sleeves (forearm to wrist) are black ribbed fabric. The body and the sleeve from arm to elbow, is oversized and a shimmery mermaid blue vinyl. He’s donned in ripped jeans and his favourite pair of original yellow timberland boots.

Jiyong is more than surprised when he goes out to grab a smoke and enjoy the night breeze, when he hears that familiar gravelly voice.

“I see you still smoke.” Jiyong doesn’t need to turn to know out who it is.

He half-laughs, half-snorts. “And you’re here, to breathe in second-hand smoke?”

Seunghyun _chuckles_.

“I haven’t got rid of my bad habit either.” And lights his cigarette.

“I see you’ve changed to menthol cigarettes.” Seunghyun points out.

Jiyong nods, he turns a bit to face him. “Yeah. I changed my taste. You’re still smoking lights.”

Seunghyun grins, “Well, what can I say, I’m boring.”

Jiyong raises his brows in response, and inhales deeply, feeling the iciness shrouding his lungs. He exhales out, blowing the smoke in the drunken midnight blue skies.

“You drove here right?” Seunghyun asks.

Jiyong nods. “Technically, Soonho drove but, yeah.” He isn’t sure why that piece of information is necessary. Seunghyun continues, “Did you see a playground before the turn in?” Jiyong sees the sparkle in his eyes. It can’t really be heading where he thinks Seunghyun’s driving to?

“So?”

“Wanna go there?”

Jiyong leans on the excuse on taking another drag to prolong the silence, because he doesn’t really have an answer. Well he has, but he doesn’t really like it.

“Yeah there’s neither a swing nor a see-saw…at least there’s still a big ass slide.” Seunghyun smiles.

_Ah what the heck_. Jiyong gestures, “Sure, let’s go.”

 

♕  
 

It’s been a little over an hour and two empty cigarette boxes. Yet they don’t seem to run out of topics. Awkwardness loomed over them, but they managed to move past that. But there’s still a tension in the air that Jiyong can’t quite place his finger on. Then Seunghyun decides to address the pink elephant in the room.

“Do you think we’d work out?” They’re both seated on the wooden planks of the ‘mini house’ of the slide, Seunghyun one level above Jiyong.

Jiyong furrows his brows, “Don’t you think this conversation is more suited for five or ten years down the road?” _Unless of course, you’re long over me—or maybe I never mattered._ Jiyong doesn’t add what he had always wanted to say.  
  
What he does say, he continues calmly, “But then again, it wouldn’t matter by then.” Jiyong sorts of laugh. Seunghyun doesn’t see the sadness in his eyes. Jiyong has both knees up and he hugs them, and rests his chin on his kneecap. 

“Why, does it matter now?” Seunghyun responds almost immediately, his voice bordering between a sharp and curious tone. Jiyong turns to face the older. He stares dead right into his brown orbs, the very same pair that always made his skin claw, made his blood rush south, made his heart slammed against his chest.

“It doesn’t. Why, does it matter to _you_?” Jiyong shoots back.

He really deserves an Oscar for this, because even he surprised himself. The aloof tone he carries with his vacuous gaze, it almost didn’t feel like himself.

But the biggest surprise of the night—when Seunghyun pushes himself towards Jiyong, their bodies melding into one, and as if upon instincts, when his lips pressed against his, how Jiyong responds quickly, lapping his upper lip against Seunghyun’s bottom lip. Oh, _softsoftsoft._

Rationality gets flung out of the window momentarily.

His skin fires up.

Seunghyun brings his hands up, and wraps them around Jiyong’s face, and Jiyong grabs a fistful of the older’s hair. The kiss deepens. His breath quickens. Jiyong soaks in the scent of Seunghyun.

And then suddenly, Jiyong pulls away. Their hair both slightly dishevelled Seunghyun looks stunned.

His gaze is perforating, so Jiyong looks away. “—I’m sorry?” Seunghyun sounds breathless.

“I’m sorry,” Jiyong echoes.

“But I don’t love you anymore.” _I can’t, not when I am beginning to find back the pieces I lost._

 

**OCTOBER.**

 

Seunghyun regrets everything. He regrets telling Jiyong to never call him again when he did, even though he was drunk. He regrets not spamming his phone the other night when Jiyong probably misdialled him. He regrets not ever speaking to him since the night they call it quits.

He regrets again, when Jiyong pulled away last night, the startled look on his face, when he drops his gaze to the ground. He regrets that he didn’t just hold onto him once more, when Jiyong apologized, when he claimed he didn’t love him anymore, it was really a cry for Seunghyun to just fucking pull him in his arms. He’ll say sorry for as long as he has to.

Instead he watches Jiyong get up and leave. He watches Jiyong walk away again. 

♕

It was raining heavily and Jiyong dashed out into the pouring weather. Seunghyun’s rage began escalating. He hated it when Jiyong was intoxicated and acted out recklessly. He grabbed him by the shoulders only to be shrugged off, and Jiyong shouted, “Don’t fucking touch me.” He was running in the rain, but then started walking in it. There wasn’t any cars along the streets since it was four in the morning, and Seunghyun yelled, “What the _fuck_ are you doing, stop being so reckless!” There weren’t any cars but it was a still a damn road they were on, a vehicle could skid by any moment and knock Jiyong out cold. He was standing right in the middle of the goddamn road.

“Go back to your Daesung. Go back. I’m sick and tired of this Hyun. _I’m done with this shit!_ I’m sick of being your fucking spare tyre.” Jiyong snapped.

“I don’t treat you as a spare tyre, or a substitute! I do love you! Can you just fucking get out of the road? It’s dangerous!” Seunghyun snapped back.

“Really? But you’re not over him right, you still love him. Tell me. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love him.” Jiyong inched towards the older. The rain pelted down mercilessly.

“Jiyong, you are _drunk_. Stop it.” Seunghyun growled. He was drenched from head to toe and he was getting sick of Jiyong’s constant drunken behaviours.

“Tell me. _Tell me_.” Jiyong’s sharp voice brink towards a desperate call.

“You’re drunk.” Seunghyun repeated.

“Let’s break up.”

“What, no—”

“Just say it, Hyun. Say it.”

“What difference does it make?”

“Hyun—”

“Fine, let’s break up.” Seunghyun was done. He was done with all the paranoia, and insecurity and the rash intoxicated side of him, constantly being provoked, all these fighting.

Jiyong was loss for words. He was crying but Seunghyun didn’t realized when he started, but his eyes were a harsh set of red. “Will you regret?” His voice grew soft.

It was a turning point: if Seunghyun said sorry, Jiyong would take him back in a heartbeat.

Instead, he said something fucking stupid like, “I’d regret, but what else can I do?”

And it was enough for Jiyong to snap, to hurl his fist across Seunghyun’s face and punched him square in the jaw. But Seunghyun refused to hit him back.

When Jiyong did stop, the rain calmed down as well. It was still drizzling however.

Jiyong saw the bruised jaw and nasty gash on his bottom lip and didn’t say a word. His tears wouldn’t stop flowing and he turned and walked away. Seunghyun watched as his lone silhouette eventually melted into the darkness.

 

**NOVEMBER.**

 

Seunghyun picks himself up and begin printing their pictures with an instax printer, and writes personal messages either on the white border at the bottom or behind the picture, if he spans further. He mails them out every day for the past two weeks because he knows Jiyong is a hopeless romantic. And he’s piled enough regrets, he’s going to take action for his happiness and fight for Jiyong all over again.

Jiyong’s done it before, for him, he definitely could do it for Ji.

It doesn’t faze him when he gets no reply back but at least he doesn’t get the mails returned. He reckons Jiyong might not wish him for his birthday again, but it doesn’t matter. As long as he fucking talks to him again that’s all that matters. Still, he hopes when November 4th arrives.

Jiyong doesn’t wish him though.

But a couple of days later he receives a poloroid, where Jiyong has his arm thrown around him, his hands hooked together, their faces slightly touching. Jiyong has a wide grin on and Seunghyun winks.

He sees the date written on the top (04.11.15), and another handwritten message below.

_Happy Birthday._

It was more than enough for Seunghyun and he’s never smiled so hard in his life.

 

**DECEMBER.**

 

The rain drops pitter-patters on the window sill gently, and Jiyong watches from his new queen-sized bed, with his left knee propped up and arm resting on it and his chin against his hand. He watches as the droplets cascade down his clear window and stares absent-mindedly for a while. He promptly lights up another cigarette and plays music off his speaker and basks in the moment of peaceful solitude.

It’s a lie to say he no longer loves Seunghyun. He reckons part of him will always love Seunghyun regardless.

But he _is_ afraid, since he painstakingly managed to piece himself back together not too long ago, he doesn’t want anyone—let alone Choi Seunghyun—with the capability to rip him apart once again.

But living a life full of fears—who wants that? The doorbell rings and breaks his train of thoughts. He hurries over in three strides to open it. Seunghyun has a red scarf around his neck and a jug of bottled beers. His smile is blinding and Jiyong grins back too. “Seems like a good weather for some beers? And it smells good in here!” Seunghyun beams. Jiyong tells Seunghyun to leave the beers at the counter top in the kitchen and he brings out two plates of prawn aglio olio and place them on the dining table.

They eat and converse, childish antics thrown in here and there, roars of laughter emitted from time to time.

♕

“Merry Christmas Ji,” Seunghyun says suddenly out of the blue as they’re both seated on the bed.

Jiyong laughs. “Christmas is not here for another week and a half. Did you hit your head on the way here?”

Seunghyun chuckles in response, and places the beer on the bedside table. Jiyong arches a brow and continues drinking.

“I just felt like saying it.”

“O.K. Well, merry Christmas to you too. I haven’t got any presents for you yet.”

“That’s fine. You can wrap yourself up and be my present.” Seunghyun smirks. Jiyong puts the beer down and slaps his arm, “That’s so fucking gross Hyun, go away.”

“But you like it.” Seunghyun replies in a singsong voice.

“Admit it.” He has a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

Seunghyun briefly grabs Jiyong’s legs when there’s no response and pulls him close which the blonde laughs and spew empty threats at the older. He slams both his wrists and pins them on either side of his head to get his attention and he stops laughing. Seunghyun inches in close until their nose touch, and Seunghyun can smell Jiyong’s minty cigarette breath.

“I love you. Kwon Jiyong. I love _you_.” Then place a tender kiss on Jiyong’s lips.

It took him a pretty long time to finally say it, but he's glad he still said it. And he means it with all his damn heart.

Jiyong could feel his heart hammering against his chest.

“Let’s take things one step at a time, okay?” Seunghyun stares deep into Jiyong’s black orbs.

The blonde swallows, feeling his tongue lost for the moment, then clears his throat.

“Okay.” He says softly.

“I love you too.”

“I know.”

 

♕

**END.**

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**Author's Note:**

> [this is ji's punkish look to the engagement party](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/61/bf/9d/61bf9d0cc56a7b93d810e64a8dee78d5.jpg)
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> [this is the poloroid ji sent to tabi](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/34400000/BIGBANG-1st-PHOTOGRAPH-COLLECTION-Extraordinary-20-s-big-bang-34427329-800-640.jpg)


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